


they linger at a dizzy rest.

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Oneshot, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 14:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1860630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He trusts her to run, he might trust her to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	they linger at a dizzy rest.

A coyote can outrun a wolf, arrowing at 43 miles per hour, three feet from the ground. Stiles thinks the world must be beautiful that way, swaying into the rudimentary colours, if you could look long enough.

Stiles thinks Malia can look and look and look, the way she looks at him sometimes.

Observational learning. Adaptability. A coyote will outlast a wolf, because they’re  _clever_.

Malia is clever, cleverer, cleverest. She’ll frown her hardest at one grainy page for one ticking moment, poised on her mark, and then she’ll read it aloud like she’s running, one word leaping to another. And,  _god,_ the way she’ll grin at him from the finish line, all gleaming teeth and _look what I can do, Stiles._

And Stiles looks and he looks and he looks, and the world is beautiful this way too, at a dizzy rest, grin smeared wide and the streaking golden brown of her pelt in her hair.  _  
_

He thinks he could show her, the world is beautiful this way too, at 5’11 and 5’8 from the ground, except she’s not looking. She doesn’t care about the way the wind whips her hair into all possible directions, the way dry mud cracks under her bare toes (she refuses to wear shoes if she doesn’t have to), the way his hand sweats, entangled with hers. She’s turned away from him, watching the way she can flick out her claws now, and flick them back in, flick them back out, over and over. Stiles listens to the rapid, _snick, snick, snick, snick,_ like a switchblade. 

The woods isn’t a bad place to own a switchblade in. 

He squints up at the sun, peeping through rustling foliage, when the claws stop and they don’t sound again. 

He finds Malia looking, as though she can smell the anxiety twisting low and dark in his belly. She squeezes his fingers, and he takes her weight when she leans in, presses them into a trunk and kisses Stiles like the predator she is, and he kisses her back like the absolute human he is.

Although, his heart would be a match for Malia, racing 43 fucking miles per  _second_. 

There must be something about him, there must be, if the smell of him can make her eyes flare up the way they do. She kisses him, over and over, deep and open-mouthed, fingers finding his neck. 

_Stiles._

And Stiles thinks, maybe he doesn’t have to show her. Maybe she sees. And she could outrun the wolves, but maybe she won’t. 

Maybe she’ll stay. 

**Author's Note:**

> The coyote information from very quick googling, so I'm not fully certain of their accuracy. This is also on tumblr.  
> [Here](http://jasnutter.tumblr.com/post/90148601816/a-coyote-can-outrun-a-wolf-arrowing-at-43-miles)


End file.
